❝Calm your tits, man. You got your fucking dark roast latte with an extra shot of fuckboy all over my arm!❞
During an evening in May, Tasha Aquino finally acquires her chance at an adventure. However, it comes at a deadly price and her seemingly un...
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thirty-one ◌ empanadas and thunderstorms
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The world was quiet.
It had been exactly a week and one day since arriving to Momi Bay and so far, no word from either Zayn or ANTI. I kept my phone close, making sure the volume was at its maximum, as I waited for the moment in which someone would contact me. But to my dismay, my phone was dry. Each day I grew more agitated; more anxious. I just wanted someone from the outside world to give me some kind of update, because at that moment, I had nothing to go off of.
Bang.
I stiffened from the startling crash that echoed throughout the villa. Initially, I deduced the clamorous sound to thunder. Brackish clouds rolled through the sky, and drops of rain pelted against the glass windows. However, when another peculiar noise filled my ears, I realized there was no thunder plaguing the island.
"Tasha!" Harry's blood curdling shrill filled my ears, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
My body snapped itself into fighting position. A small gasp left my lips, my senses peaked, and my focus garnered itself into an infinite forcefield. With rapid movements, I opened the drawer of the bedside table. I grabbed the gun hidden inside and cocked the weapon before holding it out in font of me.
"Tasha! Please!" Harry continued to shriek, the chilling fear of his tone ricocheting against every wall of the villa.
Turning the knob of the bedroom door, I flung it open and catapulted myself through the small corridor. I darted my eyes across the main living area, holding the pistol in my hand with great care. My heart thumped hastily as I searched for Harry and the reason for his painful shrills. It didn't take long for me to find the dimpled asshat, and when I did, my face fell into smooth, unamused lines.
"Are you fucking serious?!" I bellowed, shooting a nasty glare at Harry as I lowered the gun in my hand.
"Ah, not so fun is it? Screaming in fear to trick others," Harry grinned satisfyingly. He sat on top of the kitchen table with smugness dripping from his face, and I had the urge to slap the man bun off of his head.
"You make me want to play on the freeway," I ranted. I spun on my feet and started toward the bedroom.
"Wait, Tash!" Harry called out and with an annoyed sigh, I turned back around. "I still need you."
"What is it?"
"I need you to be my kitchen assistant."
"Excuse me?" I crossed my arms above my chest and popped out a hip. "I'm not going to wash your dirty dishes. You made the mess, you can clean it yourself."
With that final statement, I curtly pivoted my body and continued my endeavors back into the confines of the bedroom. I didn't get very far however, because after three steps, Harry's warm hand grasped onto my arm.
